Winter Makes It Worse
by Naoe Ney
Summary: Al invites Arthur over for christmas but finds himself getting sick last minute. Fluff. Was my Fill for the USUK Secret Santa 2010 at usxuk.


**This was planned as ILLUSTRATED NOVEL**, to see the Version with pictures please go to: .

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**A little Warning to all readers**: I used human names in this, also english is not my native tongue so I tend to use common verbalisms instead of more complicated (but maybe more fitting) words. Sorry about that I still try to enlarge my english vocabulary~

I wanted to give this a bit of a special touch through the writing as well so I decided to give _Arthur_ a bit of a _dialect_. Something more then the use of 'git' and 'bloody' it is. So I went with trying to give him some old-school English accent (West Country you could say, or what I felt would be going in that direction - I read some books were it was used and found it quite charming, this is my poor try to interpret - I hope I got it right. I deeply apologize if I shouldn't have.) At first I wanted to make it more remarkable but then I went with a less obvious interpretation so no idea if it's still remarkable or not =/  
Also, this is long shit (4000+ words). You have been warned xD And I couldn't draw christmas trees if my life depended on it

**_Winter Makes It 'Worse'_**

Winter was the worst and best time of the year, Alfred thought. For once, you could look forward to snowboarding, and Christmas felt as if it was about to happen each day. The joyful hum of random people passing by while shopping for their family and friends - their most important people - getting louder and louder each morning when he jogged by the shopping mall on his way to MCDonald's (for breakfast of course, why should he be eating something else with a MCDs only ten minues away!).

On the other hand, it was also DAMNED COLD in winter, and he tended to end up under a pile of blankets and pillows and coughing, shivering Alfred anyway. Christmas was just a stone's throw away, and the only one who spent time with him and give presents to tended to vaporize each package handed to him, insisting it was a viral bomb send to destroy his planet.

Winter really was the worst and best time of the year - and this year it also turned into a rollercoaster of emotions which didn't exactly help his mood.

First, it had looked like Christmas would be just the same as always, with the same mixture of a happy fluttering deep inside his body whenever he went outside and saw all the lights and decorations and happy people and the deep, cold stone in his stomach that made his back bend and his heart ache when he came home and found his flat looking the same as always

Last time Alfred had decorated, he went home to find Tony lying on his back, complaining about 'round, silver sweets' and how sick he got after eating the 'big, sparkley salad'.

Alfred had to clean Alien vomit once; he did not want to risk a second round.

This year it promised to be even worse because the said had decided to ditch him for Christmas in favour of a 'date' with a parade balloon. Alfred still wondered if he should tell Tony the gigantic reindeer was indeed just plastic with gas inside but then decided that he probably already knew enough and that _he did not want to know details_...**at all**!

Of course, that would have meant that he could decorate and have a big, awesome Christmas party at his flat, but what for? Whom for? The other countries had already formed their own _alliance_ against him when Austria had announced that he would hold a party this year with 'free Sachertorte' and 'Lipizzaner riding' and of course he also had the whole 'Prater' rented for them to party. Locking his own people out of his biggest amusement park out of pure, vicious revenge for them giving way too many votes to a certain politician he couldn't stand (that ruined his reputation as he put it, also that guy was 'extremly unclassy').  
Why the other countries played part in that was another question, that Alfred decided that was - again - something he did not want to know any details of. The only thing important was that he ended up without anyone to invite, so why should he have bothered decorating at all?

Naturally it would have warmed his own heart a bit to come home and see the lights and tree... but somehow each time he entered his own home all his energy seemed to be gone and he ended up in his bed watching Comedy Central once again.

However, shortly before the third Advent, a real surprise yes, a _miracle_ - happened to him. _Arthur informed him that he was free for Christmas_! Alfred didn't bother to ask why, but he had an idea it had to do with an accident long in the past when Arthur had ended up with a good fierce kick between the legs from a furious Lipizzaner when he tried to sneak up to Spain for a surprise attack. All that counted was that he could invite someone over to impress them with his absolutely gorgeous and awesome Christmas! THE BESTIESTEST CHRISTMAS EVER, he told himself sniggering as he got to work.

It took him many days and nights without sleep to get everything done. His apartment was not big at all, but he ended up changing everything from the toilet paper to the shutters with Christmas-themed articles. Two days before the big date he was finally done!

Sadly, the rollercoaster had decided it was up high enough; he ended up in bed (with the rendeer themed comforter and Christmas tree duvet high up over his chin) and the biggest cold he ever had in his whole existence... the snowman Christmas lights he had hung in the whole flat laughing down on him from their position on his bedroom ceiling (they replaced his usual lamp, it was impossible to find seven different Christmas themed glowers so he decided he didn't need more light in this room anyway).

This sucked. It sucked so much he felt like crying like a little baby that very moment. How was he supposed to show Arthur how awesome he was when he was sick in bed? The other man would start to laugh at him the second he saw his sweaty, red face and wouldn't even find time to admire the BREATHTAKING decoration work he had done EVERYWHERE, like in the storage room where one now got greeted by Santa when you openened the door opened or the elves in the individual trash containers! Who would 'aaaah' and 'ooooh' at them shining out through the transparent plastic bags, each vocalizing a different little saying upon being exposed to the light and new trash?

Alfred felt himself sinking deeper in his bed and the comfortable warmth his own fever created. Snuggling deeper in his gingerbread themed pillows, he started to wonder if he should phone Arthur and call off their party at all, but maybe he was better by then? Maybe he would be back to his great self right on Christmas ever? If he told Arthur the party was cancelled, he might really end up at Austria's party in the end, and then Alfred wouldn't even be able to call him last-minute and make him come over at all! It wasn't as if he thought England had been invited by Austriaanyway. No matter what politics said, the continental European still held quite the grudge towards the island nation for grounding him back in the _17oos_.

Alfred was still deep in thought when he suddenly started and he listened in the darkness that was the hallway in front of his open bedroom door. Obviously, Christmas themed lamps didn't come in more then _five _different shapes (he would have to change that for next year!), therefore the hallway was only illuminated by Christmas lights as well. They were little Christmas trees and they spend a really spooky green light, Al observed, shivering.

Surely he must have mistaken and heard things that weren't there; he always had had a lively imagination according to Arthur and it was dark except for the light green glow from the string of lights. Also, he was sick, and that never really helped him with thinking clearly. Maybe it was a branch scratching his window in the fifteenth floor or a pigeon sitting on his window changing position, its tail making noises on the glass while it pressed its butt against _his_ fake-snow covered windows.

The small noise came again and made him duck deeper in his covers. A slight scrape, like metal on wood, followed by a slight _klick _and an even slighter _swish_. His whole body trembling with sheer panic, Alfred kept on listening. He didn't even try to convince himself it was probably might be _Santa being early hahaha _or one of this socks finally turning alive like Arthur always had threatened him when he was younger (especially NOT the second thing, that would have driven him even more into panic then he already was in!)

His ahoge jittered like a birch leave in the wind. He started sniffing the air _just in case the sock thing had not been a bad joke by old Arty at all_.THERE! The sound again!_  
Klick klick sigh swish swish swish_

This was clearly not his imagination. He could hear it near one of the three smaller Christmas trees he had put in the hallway, or maybe it was already past these and was circling one of the illuminated reindeer. The _swish_ sounded more and more like a predator coming closer and closer to it's helpless, feverish prey.

He was as good as done for! What has he been doing sitting around all day thinking if he should call Arthur over or not! He should have taken his time to stock up on guns instead! Or better, something that could burn radioactive, rabid sockmonsters out to eat your face!

_Swish swish clack swish klick._

_NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!_

"OHMYGODDON'TKILLMEI'**IWILLWASHYOU!**"

...

...

"Da _hell_ is ya problem, fellah?"

"I was not afraid! NOT!AFRAID!"

Alfred sat upright in his bed, staring at Arthur while he was busy reinstalling his boring old, normal lamp. Seriously, what was that guy doing ruining the perfect Christmas decoration he had spent so long on!

"So ya were tremblin' an' screamin' about _nonsense_ like dat out of other reasons, yes!"

Arthur shook his head. Not only had that _git _forgotten that he had invited him to come over earlier no, he also had a damn fit over nothing AND had managed to catch a cold from working till exhaustion just to completely ridicule the whole idea of 'Christmas decoration' with his God - forsaken American plastic monstrosities.

That boy doesn't even have light in his hall! LIGHT! Did he really think three pink glowing Christmas trees (or something similar looking) and two fluorescent reindeer-mutants would be enough to find his way through his park-sized flat! Arthur fumed silently. It was clear that all the years away from good education had done quite some damage to the Alfred's logical thinking; surely _I_ had done nothing wrong in his upbringing!

"I cannot b'lieve ya took out da lights, aren'tcha still afraid of the dark youngsta!"

Teasing America was almost too easy nowadays. There had been a time when the youngster had been full of self-confidence and it didn't matter to him what others said about him, but that was long in the past already. Actually, over the past few years, he seemed to be a bit more on the nervous, almost shy, side.

Arthur ignored Alfred's annoyed groans and complaints about how he _'totally was not afraid of the dark'_ while he continued to wonder about the clear change that had happened to his younger brother as of late. The really odd thing was that, while his people gained more and more self-confidence, Alfred himself seemed to loose his own with the same speed...

"... maybe it's because of ya weight?"

**"WHAT!"**

Given the choice between the sockmonster and Arthur, he might have chosen the monster. Maybe. Maybe he wouldn't think so when it REALLY had been a green glowing sock with long fangs coming out from one wide torn hole jumping his face, but as it was, Alfred really doubted it could have been worse then what was happening to him now.  
Not only did his British 'guest' destroyed his fine interior decorations, no he had gone from that to also destroying his kitchen with a treat of _good ol' British cookin_'! WHAT had his POOR oven done to that guy! Neither this household appliance nor the poor fridge had done any crime to deserve such a harsh and ultimate punishment!

The worst thing was that he could do nothing to help them either. He was a hero unable to move. Obviously, it was some kind of radiation, his very own Kryptonite, that was weakening him so much he was left completely help- and vulnerable (silently he mused It must have been the 'Caterpillared Pirate' once again, his arch enemy, that always managed to weaken him with his 'scones attack' or 'scolding waves'

Either that or the fever got to his brain, and he thought things up that were as real as Englands Unicorns and Fairies (in his eyes that was most unlikely through, HIS brain worked still quite fine).

There was a loud bang from somewhere in his flat, and Alfred groaned silently. There he goes again, he thought. Chances were that half of his apartment would be in pieces by Christmas, just one and half days away, maybe earlier when Arthur kept taking on not only both their culinary 'needs' but also possible Christmas banquet preliminaries. The last thing Alfred needed was to have to renovate his flat AGAIN. Scone dough, cream filling and goose fat were so very hard to get out of parquet and ceilings.

"Please, for God's sake, don't kill my kitchen!" All he could hope for was that his plea had been heard and followed, but he didn't receive any answer whatsoever except one small *hmpf* noise. That could mean anything from 'I don't talk to you' version of "bloody git" to a plastic reindeer fart. Getting up to actually check if the house still had all walls was out of question too. The fever hadn't gotten any worse, not like 102 degrees weren't enough already, but he now began to feel the effect of the medications Arthur had given him. Feeling like he was made out of pudding (chocolate maybe, that would be nice) during an earthquake was not really delightful. At least it helped with his sore throat (which might explained while Arthur hadn't heard him before) and joint pains.

All in all he felt quite 'chill', as Canada would put it; he was warm and cozy, and suddenly all the strange noises and smells from outside his bedroom didn't matter so much anymore.

Or at least they didn't matter until an overly enthusiastic Brit came, bumping into, his half-way open door carrying a tray with _stuff_ on it. That WAS quite scary, and an appropriate reaction was in order.

"WHATEVER IT IS GET IT AWAY!" He knew it wasn't very heroic, but Alfred kind of paniced there a bit. He KNEW Arthur's cooking, and he also could well remember what he tried to feed him last time he was sick. There was no way he would survive this terror a second time!

"Don't be like dat hun. It won't get any better if ya don't eat something warm." Even Arthur was holding the plates away from himself it seemed. Was he trying to finally get rid of him? There was no other reason to such an evil and skewed plan than to get rid of the almighty United States of Awesome America! Yes, England had probably planned this all along and had sent his damn fairies to make him sick, too! NOT LIKE HE BELIEVED IN THOSE FAIRIES

The unholy plates went right next to his bed on top of a carefully chosen night-table wrapped in colorful paper to look like a Christmas present and now Arthur smiled at him. Chances were high that he had those daydreams again where he mistook Alfred for his (much) younger self If that happened, Alfred would never have a chance to get away and would not only be carefully fed but also kept in bed without a chance to resist. Arthur WAS stronger then he looked like; no wonder Alfred himself had developed he did. That boring Brit actually had more muscle capacity then he himself!. For a second Alfred thought about reminding Arthur that slavery was pretty illegal in most of the world nowadays, but he didn't have a chance to even open his mouth because he realised the other man was leaning down towards him...

...pressing his forehead to his own...

"Ya fever is still so high..."  
"VAT ARE U DOIN'!" In stiuations like that his own, still very much there, accent came through sometimes. Not like he would ever CONFESS he ever had one but it almost sounded like he tried to talk 'internet language' so fast and chopped the sentences left his mouth. Not amesome at all! "Checking if ya fever went down already obviously. Really, what did ya think, boy!" The stupid smile was still on Arthur's face, stupid happy Arthur. He enjoyed Alfred being so vulnerable under his stare. Alfred knew it had been a bad idea to not cancel the da... festivities. _I did not almost think 'date' there, no not at all!. It's just stupid, happy and, handsome Arthur so very close to my face._

"Ya should sleep a bit after ya ate. Really, who gets a cold from exhausting themselves overdecorating? Ya should eat more healthier food and less of that MCDonald's crap..." Was that still teasing, or did it already count as war tactic? Alfred wasn't sure, but it concerned quite a bunch of sensitive tactical positions... namely MCDonald's and McCafe, which he considered EXTREMLY IMPORTANT positions in his neighbourhood. It also seemed like the old man wanted to start an all-out war! "...not to mention dat chicken crap ya got a own chain from!"  
"OK, that's it; leave KFC alone you _MONSTER_!"

Alfred watched Arthur sigh. The older man made himself comfortable next to his younger brother and looked down at one of the most influential countries on the planet: sweaty face with hair sticking to a slightly pink forehead, fever shining in his eyes making the insulted look almost seem like he was about to cry out of frustration any second. The only sounds coming from beneath the duvet were a slight sniffing and coughing. Now that he had finished insulting Arthur with stupid song title interpretations, it seemed as if Alfred finally perceived his sore throat. "Ya really are too cute when ya're like that"

Arthur let himself slide lower on the bed and put his arm around the cocoon under the blankets that was the mighty United States of America. Alfred wanted to protest, but he was not only way too tired for anything like fighting (it's got to be the damn meds Arthur got him! He waspoisoned!) he also didn't really think it was bad that someone looked after him once for a while.  
It had been way too long since that had happened last time and the thought of Christmas made him even more aware of how much he had missed human contact.

"I told ya to sleep. Stop pullin' such a face. Didn't I tell ya it's gonna stuck that way!" Arthur couldn't help a little laugh at Alfred's slight growl. He really couldn't help the happy buzz in his chest he felt upon teasing the younger man; he just looked way too beautiful and _oh so young _when he was like that. Alfred being hidden under the covers up to half his nose only helped that image and made him want to laugh even more. It was such a nice change to see him shut up for _once._

It also bought back memories of long ago that he still - kind of - treasured deep inside. Yes, it had been painful when it was all over, and yes, it had nearly killed him emotionally when everything he dreamt of broke apart. But Al and he had established a stable relationship way faster then most others (be it countries or their bosses) were aware.  
Not even a year into Al's independence, and Arthur had found himself at the younger man's doorstep, English sweets in his pockets and a hopeful glimmer in his chest. He still wasn't sure if it had been the sweets that let Al beam with happiness that day or he himself... looking at the younger man's, however, it _must_ have been the sweets

The decades since then were more or less spent with teasing in such a fashion others called it 'fighting' but only because they had no idea what both of them were like when they were REALLY fighting. Those that knew were happy to not mention anything of it, small arguments and playful nudges and flirting. That - unbelievable as it was - was as far as things went for them so far. It seemed as if there were still borders neither of them dared to cross. Arthur had no idea what held Alfred back, but he knew that he didn't want to spend another year (or longer, god longer would kill him) all alone. Shouldn't the other appreciate a step forward? Rubbing his own slightly sweaty temple, thinking he couldn't have _caught_ something from that git?, he reached down and brushed golden strands off of his patient's brow.

Alfred looked up with a lazy blink of his lashes. For all he cared, the world could stay this way forever. The pain in his legs was gone as was the sting when he swallowed, and the fever made him sleepy, but there was a gentle man here to take care of him. What more could a guy ask from life than medication, glowing Christmas decorations and a beautiful male nurse that took care of all his wishes? Well, maybe not all of them, but the ones that mattered that moment.  
He could feel that sleep was about to take over for now, and he really couldn't care less, especially because it was a way to escape from the so-called food still sitting on his nightstand...

When he opened his eyes again, the light inside his bedroom was almost gone. At first, Alfred thought that he had ended up only napping for a few minutes, but then he realised thereweresome changes that couldn't have been done in such a short time.  
Not even he, the hero himself, would have been able to set it up so fast.

Half of his bedroom was occupied by a big Christmas tree, actually it was more then gigantic and he only identified it as his own after a few long moments of staring. Someone had dragged his 2-meters-something Christmas tree from his living room and set it up next to his bed. The same person also took a great liberties in the redecorating. Instead of his own compilation, mostly made up from glittery plastic reindeer, blinking LED stars and lots of sugar canes, the trees branches were decorated with small angels, classical glass ornaments and gingerbread in all kinds of shapes.

Honestly, Alfred would almost say it was the prettiest tree he had seen in a long time.

The light it spent was also different; instead of the electrical lights he had put on it, the tree had a decent number of real candles glowing on its wide branches. Underneath it sat, as if waiting for someone to come to play with it, a small, askew clay town complete with a church, a house and a Christmas tree that stood much taller then the houses. Each shed a warm glow and Alfred presumed from smaller candles inside each of them, the glow way too warm for anything else. He should know, he was the reason for the crooked roofs, the irregular walls. It was a small town he himself had made as Arthur's Christmas present decades ago.

It was really a _great_ tree. And it was so very obvious who had set it up for him. He was the only person who would care enough for him to make sure he would not get up sick. The only person that would nearly break his neck just for Alfred's happiness and keep a child's ugly clay town for that long. The same person currently sleeping next to him in his bed, snoring and with Union Jack E-Guitar Christmas ornament in hand. _Thank God he didn't get the chance to put that on the tree!_

Reaching over, now being the one to brush back damp strands of hair, he slowly bent down to kiss slightly parted lips; Alfred mused that it was the perfect time to take things a step forward. They had spent more then enough time dancing around one another like leaves in the wind - also what kind of hero would he be if he didn't thank Arthur in a proper way!

Ah yeah that's it, I hope it is to everyones liking. I first had planned to include a bit more BOWCHIKABOWOW but then went with fluffycuteDIABETEEEEEES instead XD It's christmas so I thought why not getting things a bit more cheesy (hopefully not too cheesy through). What I have to apologize for is that I seem to have overdone the opening again =/ it's some kind of sickness I have. I hope my poor 'art' is making up for that a bit =)

**Merry Christmas!**


End file.
